


Cherish

by closet_fujoshi (chaotic_souljam)



Category: Free!
Genre: Birthday Party, Birthday Sex, Fluff I think, M/M, a bit of nagireikou ot3 just because, best friend!Rin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotic_souljam/pseuds/closet_fujoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His friends are here, Haru is here, and it's the most beautiful feeling in the world.</p>
<p>Written for Mako-chan's birthday~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherish

**Author's Note:**

> Really rough and unedited so maybe a few formatting issues but I really wanted to have this posted before midnight in my timezone. Blame my perfectionist side rearing its head since I'd only count this as for Mako-chan's birthday if I get it posted on the 17th in my POV.
> 
> Ninja edit: Set after episode 12, just in case anyone is wondering or confused XD Also fixed some italics I forgot to add.
> 
> Anyway, yeah. 
> 
> Happy Birthday, Makoto~

_Blue eyes shimmer from under a heavy-lidded gaze. He's looking at him the same way he always looks at water, and it takes Makoto's breath away. He slips Haru's cock out of his mouth then nuzzles it with his cheek._

_'Haru, I love you.'_

_His hand moves slowly up and down the silky skin of Haru's dick, and the sight of Haru's usual stoic face giving way to a desperate, flushed expression is something he can't get enough of._

_'Makoto,' Haru moans in a quiet, breathless whimper._

_'Makoto,' he repeats as he bucks up into Makoto's grip. Makoto moves back down and wraps his lips around the tip of Haru's cock. Haru's panting fills his ears, a lewd symphony of breath hitching running counterpoint with wet, sucking sounds as Makoto earnestly lets Haru fuck his mouth._

_'Makoto! I'm—'_

 

 

"Makoto. Time to wake up."

"Haru?" Makoto asks, his eyes still dazed from sleep. The remnants of his dream, still vivid even now, cling to him, bringing an embarrassed blush to his cheeks.

After all, this is the third time this week that he's dreamt of Haru in that way, and it's getting a bit out of hand.

A feminine giggle filters into his ears. He squints against the bright morning sun coming through the window and sees his mother smiling indulgently down at him.

"I'm afraid Haru-kun isn't here yet, but he called to say he'll be here in around half an hour," his mother says. She stifles a giggle, demurely hiding her face behind one hand.

"I suppose you should get ready, hmm?" 

With a twinkle in her eye and a pointed glance at the telling bulge under his blankets, she exits the room.

_Oh no. She knows. She definitely knows._

Makoto presses his hands against his rapidly-warming face. This is too embarrassing, no matter how many times this has happened. At least, he thinks, it hadn't been the twins who had come to wake him up. That would have been a disaster of epic proportions; he doesn't think he can make it through having to have The Talk with those two just yet.

The door opens again, but just a little, and his mother's head pokes out from behind it, her trademark smile still in place.

"Oh, and Makoto?"

"Yes?" he squeaks out, his voice muffled behind his fingers.

"Do it today, okay?"

"Eh?!" he blurts out. "Do what?!"

_She can't mean..._

"Confess to Haru-kun, of course." His mother's matter-of-fact tone throws him for a bit, until he remembers that his mother has almost always known about his feelings for Haru. 

He remembers that night, back when he was in his third year of middle school. They had been doing the dishes together, and somehow the conversation had turned to Haru, as it often does when Makoto gets to lead the conversation. That night, he remembers being thankful for having parents who whole-heartedly supported him, parents who accepted that their son is in love with another guy.

He sighs in relief as he processed her words. He really should get his mind out of the gutter; to think he had even entertained the thought that his mother would suggest something like 'doing it' with Haru is—

"As for after," she continues, the tip of her finger raised to her lips as her face scrunched up in mock concentration. "You still have those things I gave you before?"

Makoto stares, horrified, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, as his mother walks back into his room to rummage through the bottom drawer of his closet. 

"Mom!" Makoto hadn't thought his face could get any redder, but apparently he had thought wrong. At least, he tells himself, all the blood rushing to his face has effectively killed his erection.

"Hm?"

"Yes, I still have those," Makoto groans, resigning himself to the fact that yes, this is happening, and yes, his mother is making sure he has both lube and condoms in his bedroom.

"Oh, good!" All throughout, her smile never wavers, and Makoto wonders if maybe she is having a bit too much fun with this. The resulting pout forming on his lips catches her attention. Her gaze softens.

"All right, all right, I'm sorry for teasing," she says. "Happy birthday, Mako-kun."

_Ah, I forgot about that._

His thoughts must be written clearly on his face, because his mother simply shakes her head at him before finally turning to leave.

"Now, get ready, okay? Wear that new shirt we bought last week. It's in your closet."

"Okay, I will."

The door closes with a final thud.

 

"Happy birthday, Mako-chan!" Nagisa's loud cheering and enthusiastic arm-waving makes Makoto duck his head with a bashful chuckle, his hand rubbing his nape self-consciously. 

"Nagisa-kun!" an indignant Rei exclaims when one of Nagisa's hands accidentally knocks his glasses askew. 

Kou giggles at the sight of Nagisa chasing Rei around, shouting gleefully about giving him a hug as an apology. She has her face cradled in her hands, arms propped against the edge of the table in the center of the room. 

They're in the room that opens up into the garden, but it's winter so the doors are shut to keep out the cold. He idly wonders why they hadn't just stayed in the room connected to the kitchen, but figures that Haru must have had a reason to choose to have everyone here.

"Aw, come on, Rei-chan. Just one hug?" Nagisa calls out to Rei from the room.

"I refuse," Rei quickly replies, and the chase resumes. It only ends when Kou and Nagisa team up on Rei, performing an eerily-synchronized pincer attack that results in Rei sandwiched between the two.

The three collapse onto the tatami in a fit of giggles. Well, mostly giggles. Rei is still muttering about how it isn't beautiful at all. Makoto smiles at the way he isn't really making too much of an effort to get Kou and Nagisa off him. Despite his outwardly-serious facade, Rei is surprisingly a lot more affectionate than people would expect.

That's something he and Haru have in common.

A sharp 'pop' draws his attention from the squirming pile of first-years to Rin who had a party popper in his hands. A flurry of confetti rains down on them, and although Rin looks a bit ridiculous with bits of coloured paper stuck in his hair, Makoto can't help but return his sharp-toothed smile.

He looks around at all his friends gathered around Haru's living room, and a rush of affection warms him to the core. 

_I'm glad we're all together again._

But there is one person missing. The most important one of all. Haru had picked him up from his house this morning, led him into his own house, then promptly disappeared into the kitchen as Makoto had been swarmed by Nagisa and the others. He had hardly caught more than a glimpse of Haru since then, only seeing him bring out plates upon plates heaped with all the kinds of food that Makoto loves.

He's happy, of course, that his friends had gone to such lengths to celebrate his birthday, but even so, he still wants Haru to be here with him. He wants to say that whatever Haru is doing in the kitchen can wait, but he doesn't want Haru to think that he doesn't appreciate the effort he's putting in to make Makoto's birthday as memorable as possible. So he stays silent as he waits for Haru to make his appearance.

Rin meets his gaze, and a smirk slowly spreads across the redhead's face.

"Tch." He leans over to Makoto and throws an arm around his shoulders. "Someone get Haru in here!" 

"Eh?" Makoto squeaks out. Had he been that obvious?

"Seriously, birthday boy, you look like a lost puppy. Can't bear to go this long without Haru, eh?" Rin teasingly whispers into his ear. 

"That's not—," he begins to say, but the knowing glint in Rin's red eyes tell him he's not fooling anyone. He doesn't trust himself not to spew out a long string of mushy words, so he just nods, eyes turned down so he doesn't have to deal with Rin's teasing.

"Haru-chan, hurry up!" 

"Oi, Nagisa, stop pulling me."

Haru's hair is all messy, and his apron bears the signs of hours spent working in the kitchen, but the way his blue, blue eyes hold Makoto is what draws him in the most. A small, tired smile makes its way onto Haru's lips before he resolutely turns his head away. 

Makoto's worried gaze takes in the tired slump of Haru's shoulders. Even from this far, he can easily tell that Haru is exhausted. That's why it worries him even more when Haru turns to go back to the kitchen. 

"Haru?" he calls out. Haru looks back at him over his shoulder. Makoto reads the question in his eyes.

"Just wait a bit more," he mumbles before disappearing again. 

_How long is 'a bit more'?_

Not long, it turns out. Rin manages to distract him by regaling him with tales of absurdly hot Australian summers and his adventures with trying to understand Australian slang. Most of it goes over his head since he's not all that good at English to begin with, but it's nice to see Rin talking so animatedly.

"Ah, Haruka-senpai, it's done?" Kou's excited voice interrupts Rin's rant about barbies, of all things.

Makoto's head whips towards the sliding doors so fast it dizzies him for a few moments. When he can see clearly again, his eyes widen in surprise.

Standing there in the doorway, Haru is smiling gently at him, a chocolate cake carefully placed on a tray in his hands. On top of the cake, there are figures painstakingly shaped out of coloured chocolate—a butterfly, a penguin, two sharks, one pink and the other a stark red, an orca and a dolphin.

Makoto wants to speak, to say his thanks, but the words won't come out. Haru walks slowly toward him, his eyes a soft blue that says—

_It's okay. I understand._

When Haru reaches him, he crouches down and holds the cake out to Makoto with a solemn expression. A lone candle flickers on top, throwing the features of the chocolate animals into high relief. His eyes are immediately drawn to the shape of the orca and the dolphin curved towards each other, snouts touching as if in a kiss.

Through the dancing flames, their eyes meet and Makoto falls in love all over again.

"...Happy birthday, Makoto."

Again, Haru holds his gaze like Makoto is the only thing he sees. His heart feels full—of love, of gratitude, of everything in between—and it's all Makoto can do not to start crying because everything is perfect. His friends are here, Haru is here, and it's the most beautiful feeling in the world.

"Makoto," Rin nudges him with a grin. "Make a wish." 

"Ah, right," he scrambles to say. 

He looks at Rin, then past him to see Nagisa on Rei's back, Kou holding Rei's arm closely. Everyone is looking at him expectantly.

_I wish..._

Nagisa gives a small encouraging nod. Makoto closes his eyes.

_I wish we can always stay like this._

In the darkness behind his eyelids, he imagines he sees Haru still looking at him, that mysterious blue gaze communicating so much that he knows it would take him a lifetime to understand it all, and he doesn't mind one bit because he would gladly spend his whole life with Haru if he'd let him.

_I wish for Haru to let me stay by his side forever._

Two wishes might be greedy of him, but he supposes he can be greedy just this once. He breathes in deeply, the scent of freshly baked cake and the smoke of the candle filling his nostrils before he purses his lips and blows out the flames on his first attempt.

"Yay!" Nagisa crows. "What did you wish for, Mako-chan?" 

"I can't tell you that, Nagisa," he replies with an apologetic smile. 

"That's right, Nagisa-kun," Kou pipes in. "If he tells you, it won't come true, right, Rei-kun?"

"That's nothing but superstition," Rei states as he pushes his glasses up with one hand. "But to be safe," he adds, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to avoid saying it."

This sparks another spirited conversation between the three with Rei in the middle acting as a mediator of sorts. A familiar weight on his side drags his attention away from them. He doesn't register Rin getting up to join the others; he just knows that finally, it's just him and Haru again.

Haru slumps against him, his head resting against Makoto's shoulder. His fingers seek Makoto's out, and when the tips of Haru's fingers brush the rough skin of his palm, Makoto can't help but blush, hold his breath, and wait for Haru's next move.

He peers up at Makoto with bright blue eyes, a request shining in their depths. 

_Can I?_

Makoto answers by hooking his fingers around Haru's. 

_Of course._

 

 

After that, what little remains of the day passes like a blur. They eat the cake that Haru had worked so hard to make, and it's as rich and delicous as expected. Nagisa manages to take most of the chocolate animals, but Haru saves the orca and the dolphin at the last minute, snatching them out of Nagisa's hands just before he bit the orca's head off. 

The others may not have noticed, but Makoto sees the careful way Haru handles the orca as he sequesters the two chocolate animals onto a separate plate that he then places in a corner far away from the festivities. It makes him feel warm inside, because he knows that to Haru, those two animals represent him and Makoto.

Sometime after the sun had set, Rin announces that it's high time for them all to go home. 

"It's getting late, and there's school tomorrow," he says, pulling his sister along. "I'll take you home, Gou."

"I suppose it has gotten pretty late," Rei nods in agreement. 

Despite Nagisa's complaints about not wanting to leave just yet, Makoto soon finds himself waving goodbye to the four. He'd just turned to face Haru when a voice calls out to him.

Rin is jogging back towards them. Makoto sees Haru stiffen beside him, and he's about to ask why, but Rin is already talking.

"Makoto! Almost forgot. For you, from me and Gou and those two goofballs."

Rin pushes a box into his hands. It's wrapped in fancy green paper, and there's a red bow on top and a note attached to the ribbon. A cursory glance reveals his name written in bold bordered by a lot of pink hearts, most likely courtesy of Nagisa.

"Oh, you didn't have to..." he trails off, but the frown on Rin's face makes him backtrack. "I mean, thank you." He ends his sentence with a grateful smile.

Seemingly satisfied with Makoto's response, Rin gives his shoulder a playful shove. "'s nothing. You deserve it anyway."

The light blush on Rin's face tells him that it had taken a lot for Rin to say those words, so he smiles and accepts them without comment. 

"Rin-rin, let's go!" Nagisa's impatient voice is loud enough to startle all three of them. 

"Don't call me that!" Rin bellows back, then he turns to Haru. "Make sure you give him _that_."

"I got it. You don't need to remind me," Haru grouses, turning his head to the side where Makoto can't see. 

_That?_

The emphasis on that hadn't been lost on Makoto, and he wonders just what exactly Rin had been referring to. He starts to ask, but Rin just winks at him and it surprises him because this Rin seems so much more like the one they had known back in elementary school. He takes a moment too long to appreciate that Rin has begun to change from that sullen person they had met in the ruins of the old swimming club, and he loses his chance to speak.

"See you around, Makoto, Haru." 

He raises a hand in farewell, then runs back to where Gou and the others are waiting.

Makoto watches them go, questions still bouncing around in his mind.

_What did he mean by_ 'that' _? Does Haru know? I think he does. I wonder if he'd tell me if I asked?_

He and Haru stand by the gate for a while as Makoto wavers between asking Haru outright or waiting for him to speak of his own volition. In the meantime, he picks idly at the ribbon on his present, just so he has something to do with his hands.

"I," Haru begins. He clears his throat before he continues.

"I couldn't find you a present like that. Sorry."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Makoto hurries to reassure him. "Besides you made me cake and curry and all that other stuff," he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed. But he forces his way past the embarrassment to meet Haru's gaze steadily. 

"Thank you, Haru."

"Still, I should have gotten you a present," Haru insists.

Typical stubborn Haru. Once he's gotten an idea in his head, he hardly ever lets anyone dissuade him. 

Just then, a particularly sharp gust of cold winter wind blows past them. Haru, still dressed in just a hoodie, some pants and his blue apron, shivers lightly. Makoto ushers him back into the house.

Once inside, he notices how much of a mess they've made in the course of today's celebrations. There are cups and plates everywhere, and the floor is littered with bits of paper and plastic.

"Sorry about the mess," he cringes as he toes away a stray candy wrapper. "I'll help you clean up."

"It's fine. You can go home if you want to. I can handle this myself." Haru is quick to reply.

"But you're tired, right? You've been on your feet almost the whole day," Makoto says, the worry he feels intensifying when he sees Haru's fingers tremble lightly from fatigue as he picks up a plate off the floor.

"I'm fine. This is nothing." 

It's not always that Makoto opposes Haru so blatantly—he prefers to gently steer Haru towards what he deems is the correct decision—but this time, he resolutely puts his foot down. Figuratively, of course.

It's a stand-off, he thinks, between Haru, who is under the impression that Makoto is not allowed to help because it's his birthday today, and himself, who is not heartless enough to make Haru clean up after all the hours he had spent making sure he and everyone else had enough to eat. 

In the end, Haru heaves a sigh, and Makoto knows he has given in. It's a silent triumph when Haru allows him to carefully put his still-wrapped present on the table, dig out an old broom and start sweeping.

"You can help, I guess." Haru's petulant tone is somehow cute, so Makoto lets out a quiet giggle that makes Haru frown at him in consternation.

They work in silence, Makoto sweeping all the rubbish into a dustpan while Haru goes around collecting the plates and cups and stacking them in the sink. Once the rubbish is safely tucked away into the bin, they turn to the dishes. Wordlessly, they decide to do them in the morning.

It may just be his imagination, but ever since that comment from Rin about the mysterious _'that'_ , Haru has been sneaking nervous glances at him whenever he thinks Makoto isn't looking. He pretends not to see because he knows Haru doesn't like being caught staring, but the curiosity is getting to be a bit too much for him to handle.

Just before he musters up the courage to finally ask about whatever _'that'_ is, Haru turns abruptly to him, an uncharacteristic blush painting his cheeks red.

"Wait here. Don't follow me, understand?"

All he can do is nod silently, and he's sure Haru can clearly see the confusion on his face, but before he can find any sort of answer in Haru's expression, he's already left the room.

Makoto makes himself comfortable on the tatami floor, but the next few minutes are agonizing slow. The ticking of the clock mocks him, seemingly out of rhythm, like a second drags out for too long, followed by another that goes by far too fast. Eventually, it settles into a beat that mirrors that of his own heart, and he imagines that this might be a bit like going insane.

When the door finally slides open, he lets out a huge sigh of relief.

"Haru," he begins, turning towards where Haru stands in the doorway. Whatever words he had been planning to say go swiftly flying out of his mind once his brain manages to register the sight before him.

Haru had discarded the apron, the hoodie, and the pants, leaving him in only his jammers. His favorite pair, Makoto recalls in a daze, the one with the purple V near the groin. But Haru in his jammers is an ordinary sight, all things considered, and it's not what brings on the sudden dryness in Makoto's mouth.

No, it's the fact that green cloth that looks like silk is wrapped artfully around his torso, criss-crossing across his chest, positioned to hide just enough to tease. Makoto gulps audibly when he catches a slight hint of a nipple under the green silk. 

"Well?" Haru's voice is low, low enough that Makoto almost misses it. 

"What?" he replies, sure that he must look like an idiot with his slack-jawed expression but too dumbstruck to do anything but stare. 

Haru fidgets in his green silk and jammers outfit, and Makoto surreptitiously covers his crotch with one hand because he can already feel the beginnings of a raging erection. He curses under his breath, unsure of how he can get away without Haru discovering his highly inappropriate reaction to him.

"Aren't you going to accept your present?" Even as he says it, Haru's face is already turned away. But Makoto doesn't need to see Haru's eyes to know what he means; it's blatantly obvious anyway, and despite everything, Makoto isn't a complete idiot.

"B-but Haru..." Makoto stammers. 

Haru fixes him with an intensely blue gaze, and Makoto can tell that all his insecurities, all his questions about what it is exactly that had prompted all this, has been laid bare for Haru to see. 

Haru's lips press into a thin line, and for a few moments it looks as if he's trying to decide what to do next. Then he nods, determined, and drops to all fours and crawls over to Makoto. 

He can't help the gasp that escapes him when Haru's arms wrap around his neck and his silk-adorned torso is pushed flush against his own. 

"Haru?" Makoto winces at the way his voice sounds—so hoarse, so rough with want. It broadcasts his desire like a megaphone; he might as well just come out and say 'I want you'.

"I couldn't find a present for you," Haru repeats his words from earlier that night. "So Rin told me I could just do this instead."

_Oh, so this must be the 'that' they had been talking about._

Makoto tries to turn his head to look at Haru, but warm hands hold him in place. 

_Ah, he doesn't want me to look at him yet._

"Do you think," Haru's voice cracks, but from what, Makoto isn't sure, not without being able to see his face. Haru takes a moment to gather himself, and Makoto can almost feel the tension as he prepares to say what he wants to say. 

This feels like a momentous build-up to something, so Makoto waits patiently for Haru's words.

"Do you think you can be happy with just me?"

For a moment, it's as if time stops. Makoto finds himself second-guessing whether he'd heard him right or not, but his words had been clear. Haru had left no room for misunderstanding.

This time, Makoto doesn't hold back. Elated laughter bubbles up and escapes as chuckles muffled against the side of Haru's neck. He tightens his grip on the boy in his arms, tears threatening to fall from his closed eyes.

_That's not fair, Haru._

"Makoto?"

_I wanted to confess first._

"Oi, you're crying." The mild panic in Haru's voice brings Makoto back from the sunny, flowery place he had been flung into when he heard Haru's unspoken confession. Because that's what it had been, and he's absolutely sure that that had been what Haru had meant, and he knows that Haru knows that he knows. 

"Haru." 

He finally gets to look into Haru's eyes. The uncertainty in that blue gaze is heartbreaking, so Makoto searches for the words to wipe it away.

"Of course I'd be happy. If I can have Haru for the rest of my life, I'd never wish for anything else again."

Makoto smiles through the happy tears blurring his vision of Haru, wide-eyed Haru who looks like he can hardly believe his ears. 

A rare smile blooms on Haru's face as he presses their foreheads together. Makoto has no idea how long they spend just sitting there and basking in the warmth of each other's presence, but he doesn't mind at all because he thinks, no, he's knows that surely the best place in the world is right here with Haru.

 

 

"Makoto."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to unwrap your present now?"

At first, he thinks that Haru is talking about the present lying forgotten on the table, but then he sees Haru shyly fingering the bow tied near his waist.

"C-can I?" 

His pulse, which had relaxed into a regular one, cranks up to an erratic beat when Haru gives a tiny nod. He slowly lowers Haru onto the tatami, handling him like he's precious because he absolutely is.

"Then, I'll start, okay?" 

He has a hard time just undoing the knot because he's so nervous he can hardly think straight, and once the green silk comes apart under his hands, the trembling in his fingers makes it virtually impossible to untangle the cloth from around Haru's torso. 

Haru winces when he accidentally pokes at his ribcage with his index finger.

"Sorry!" Makoto gasps. "I'm bad at this, I'm so—"

"If you can't use your fingers," Haru interrupts him, his pupils dilated so wide that his eyes appear a deep, dark blue. "You can use this." His fingers trace the edge of Makoto's bottom lip before dipping briefly into his mouth to graze his teeth.

It makes sense, sort of, and Makoto, in his current state of mind, finds no reason not to do as Haru says. Besides, the thought of his mouth on Haru is something he's had many times, ever since puberty had hit him with a slew of wet dreams all starring his best friend.

Makoto lowers his lips onto the silk wrapped around Haru's waist, catching it between his teeth and pulling it slowly away. All the while, he maintains eye contact with Haru, and it excites him more than he'd like to admit to see Haru staring at him so intently.

Slowly, methodically, he works his way up Haru's body, unraveling the ribbons of green silk to reveal smooth skin that he's always been yearning to touch. And if his lips linger a little longer than necessary on the ridges of Haru's toned abdomen, well, it can't really be helped.

After all, how can he control himself when everything he's ever wanted is right there for the taking?

Once Makoto reaches the last bit of cloth entwined around the column of Haru's throat, he pauses. His fingers are steadier now, so instead of undoing the last knot with his teeth as he had been doing previously, he gently touches his lips to Haru's as he pulls the silk away from Haru's skin.

"Does this mean you're mine now?" Makoto means it to be a playful jab, but it comes out as a desperate need for confirmation of Haru's feelings for him. He feels pitiful—why does he always need to be coddled and comforted like this?—but the softness in Haru's smile lets him know that Haru accepts him just as he is, despite his many fears and flaws.

"I've always been yours, idiot."

His heart swells with so much of an emotion he can hardly name—love seems to be too shallow a word, and affection too mild a term for what he feels—that it threatens to burst in his chest. 

"Haru," he chokes out. 

This time, it's Haru who reads the silence that comes after his words. This time, it's Haru that reaches out and takes his hand.

With their fingers laced together, their bodies flush against each other, Makoto whispers his love against Haru's heated skin, branding it into his flesh not with visible marks, but with something more indelible, an unnamed something that exists only in the infinitesimal distance between their bodies.

 

 

Haru's jammers are bunched up around his knees, Makoto's pants and boxers are only halfway covering his rear, and every motion brings a fresh burst of desire as their cocks slide against each other. Makoto swallows Haru's every moan, his tongue exploring the inside of Haru's mouth thoroughly as he thrust up against the boy currently sitting in his lap.

Haru breaks away first, panting, his fists clenched around the fabric of Makoto's shirt.

"W-wait." 

Makoto slows the movement of his hips, looking to Haru to see what the problem is. If Haru is feeling uncomfortable with the direction they had been heading towards or with the fact that they seem to be moving a bit too fast, then Makoto would stop. For Haru.

Haru scrambles off Makoto's lap but doesn't bother to pull up his jammers. Makoto had always known that Haru had less body consciousness than the average person, but if Haru keeps this up, it would be the death of him someday soon.

The dark-haired boy crawls over— _oh god, is he seriously swaying his hips like that_ —to a wooden table in the corner of the room, the kind that has drawers under it, and pulls open a seemingly random drawer. Only it isn't random at all, because he grabs a suspiciously familiar-looking plastic tube and three equally familiar foil packets.

Haru glances at him over his shoulder, an unmistakably coy smile playing upon his swollen lips, and Makoto's gaze inevitably travels down to the curve of Haru's ass that is so generously presented to him. He tells himself to wait for Haru to come back, but before he knows it, he's already crossed the room and is pressing his chest against Haru's back. 

"Haru, is that what I think it is?" he mumbles into Haru's back. His cheeks heat up when he realises that Haru must have been planning this for a while. 

"Yeah," Haru answers, angling his face to the side, wordlessly asking Makoto to kiss him again. Makoto gladly leans farther to meet his waiting lips, and once Haru is sufficiently distracted, he lightly grips the base of Haru's dick.

He starts of with slow, lingering strokes, his thumb gliding over the tip to spread the beading pre-cum. The boldly labeled lube container catches his eye, but he's unsure whether he should start using it now. 

The phrase 'For maximum pleasure' written in large font on the label gets stuck in his thoughts, and once he's started thinking, he can't stop.

_Should I use it now? How do I use it anyway? I think it goes on my fingers first?_

His stroking rhythm is thrown off, making Haru growl softly in frustration. 

_Wait, does Haru want to be top or bottom? Oh god, I have no idea what I'm doing? I'm so sorry, Haru..._

"Stop over-thinking things." Haru's voice cuts through his anxiety. "Just do whatever feels good."

_Just do whatever feels good._

It would be nice if he could be as cool as Haru and be able to just be natural like he is, but that's not the kind of person Makoto is. He tries to let go of his doubts, but it's impossible not to think when he wants so, so much to make this good for Haru.

Makoto freezes up. _I don't know what to do._

A cold, slippery sensation on his fingers startles him. Haru's hand encircles his wrist, guiding his hand down towards the crease of Haru's rear. Haru's other hand pulls at one cheek, parting them to make room for Makoto.

"If you're so worried, I'll show you what to do," Haru breathes.

It bothers Makoto for a bit that Haru seems very experienced in this kind of thing. He hadn't thought he'd be the jealous kind, but the thought of anyone else doing this with Haru sends upsets him more than a little. Okay, it upsets him a lot. 

As usual, Haru reads his discomfort. "Don't get the wrong idea. It's not like I know for sure what I'm doing." 

He grabs the base of Makoto's middle finger, and starts inching it into his own ass. Once it's deep inside, buried up to the knuckle, Haru lets out the breath he had been holding. 

"I just figured we could learn as we go along." 

_Ah._

Of course. Of course, that would be the most natural thing after all. That Haru was willing to stumble through this for him, with him, means the most to Makoto. Even more than the act itself, the fact that Haru trusts him to this extent is what makes him happiest.

Makoto exprimentally pulls his finger half-way out then thrusts it back in. Haru's pained gasp elicits a stammered apology and a promise to go slower. Trial and error, Makoto tells himself. He pays close attention to what makes Haru wince, to what makes him moan just that little bit louder that signals when he's feeling good. 

He establishes a constant rhythm that has Haru rocking back against his hand. Makoto licks a trail down Haru's spine, making the shorter boy arch his back in pleasure. He's three fingers in, and Haru doesn't seem to be hurting anymore. Just to be sure, though, he asks anyway.

"Does it still hurt, Haru?"

He hears Haru swallow, trying to form the words, but an accidental jerk of Makoto's fingers deep inside Haru causes him to collapse face-down onto the floor with a loud cry. His arms had thankfully cushioned his unexpected fall, but it still worries Makoto because he has no idea whether that sharp gasp had meant pain or pleasure.

"Do that again," Haru begs, his voice muffled from the way his face is buried in his arms. His legs are trembling, so much so that Makoto wraps an arm around his waist and supports most of Haru's weight on that arm.

Although he is reluctant at first, he goes with what Haru wants. He tries to remember what it is exactly he had done, and after a few attempts, he rediscovers the spot that had drawn such a reaction from Haru.

Each time he brushes past that spot, Haru's fingers scrabble for purchase against the tatami. He would have continued this until Haru comes, but then Haru reaches back and stops his hand's motions.

"That's enough preparation, I think."

Haru straightens, hurriedly peels off his jammers, then reaches for the bottle of lube, plucking one condom packet off the floor. He pushes Makoto down and straddles him. He tears the foil with his teeth, and somehow such a mundane sight seems just as erotic as everything they had been doing so far.

It must be the fact that the sound of that foil ripping open combined with the flash of Haru's eyes merely hammers in the fact that in a few moments, he'd be having sex with Haru for the first time. Not even in his dreams has he gotten this far; all he had ever gotten had been blowjobs and handjobs. He supposes he had never really thought this would ever happen, so even his subconscious could not imagine it.

_But it's happening. It's really happening._

The look of concentration on Haru's face as he rolls the condom onto Makoto's cock is endearing to say the least. Makoto runs his fingers through Haru's damp hair before handing him the lube with hands trembling with anticipation. 

Haru slathers Makoto's latex-covered cock with a lot more lube than necessary, but Makoto supposes too much is a lot better than too little. His breath catches in his throat as he watches Haru lower his hips.

Makoto tries to keep his eyes open and trained on Haru so he can see just what kind of expression Haru would show him, but when Haru's wet tightness slides down his length, he can't help but curl his toes and scrunch his eyes shut in pleasure. Haru isn't even moving yet—he must still be getting used to having a cock inside him—but even that is almost too much.

A lone finger trailing from his eyelashes down to his cheek is followed by the rest of Haru's hand cradling his cheek so tenderly Makoto just has to see Haru's face no matter what. He peeks up at Haru just as his hands move down to Makoto's chest.

The contented smile on Haru's face takes his breath away. He feels light-headed, and it gets even more dizzying as he watches Haru tentatively raise his hips a bit before sliding back down. The open-mouthed look of pleasure on Haru's face and the tiny hitching gasps as he seats Makoto's cock deep inside him causes Makoto to grip Haru's hips, just so he has something with which to anchor himself. 

Makoto tries to keep still; he's afraid—so very afraid—of hurting Haru by getting too eager. But Haru leans down, kisses him so sweetly, so gently, like Makoto is the most precious thing, then whispers against his lips.

"Move, Makoto."

He'd like to say that after that, his body had just known exactly how to move with Haru and everything had been perfect, but that's not what happens. It's still perfect, but not because he just magically does everything right. They spend quite a bit of time just learning to synchronize their movements, then a bit more trying to find the right rhythm and pace that works for the both of them, but it's perfect because it's Haru, and it's him, and they're together. 

It's not as serious as an affair as Makoto originally imagined either; a fair bit of hushed giggling on Makoto's part and low chuckles from Haru is involved, especially when Haru's fingertips graze that ticklish part of Makoto's side, and when Makoto's cock slips out of Haru because Haru mistimes his grinding down onto Makoto. 

It's fun, it's exhilarating, it's everything he had never thought it would be, and it's perfect.

"Makoto," Haru moans against his neck as their movements—Makoto's hand working Haru's dripping erection, Haru wrapped tightly around Makoto—grow frenzied, both of them pushing each other towards the brink. 

_It's perfect._

Haru comes first, his shuddering breath fanning over Makoto's heated skin. His cock twitches in Makoto's hands, hot cum spurting out onto Makoto's shirt, the tight heat around Makoto's cock getting impossibly more intense as Haru squeezes him during the throes of his orgasm.

Then, even though he's already finished, Haru keeps moving, his desire for Makoto to come as well clear in the way he eagerly bounces up and down Makoto's dick.

It doesn't take long for Makoto to come, and when he does, it's with Haru's name on his lips. 

Once he's relaxed somewhat, Makoto carefully pulls out, apologizing profusely when he notices Haru wincing. 

"Don't apologize," Haru chastises him sternly. Makoto reads between the lines, looking for what Haru really wants to say.

_Don't regret it, because I don't._

Ah, so that's what it is. 

Makoto presses an apologetic kiss to Haru's cheek. He knows he's forgiven when Haru climbs off him then curls up beside him, his arms thrown haphazardly around Makoto's form.

Their position makes it a bit difficult to peel the used latex of his softening cock, but he manages it somehow. He ties it off, briefly ponders leaving Haru for a bit to go and throw it into the rubbish bin properly, but decides that no, he'd rather stay here, thank you very much. He hurls it somewhere away from them, and makes a mental note to retrieve it in the morning for proper disposal.

Weariness brings a heaviness to his limbs, but he gathers the half-asleep Haru into his arms and somehow succeeds in carrying him to Haru's room. After everything, he knows that Haru deserves a good night's rest in a proper bed.

He tucks him in, pulling the covers securely over Haru's prone form, then moves to dig out the futon he uses whenever he sleeps over, but he is halted before he even makes it a few metres from the bed by a hand that shoots out from under the blankets.

"Stay," Haru murmurs sleepily, insistently tugging at Makoto's forearm. 

Makoto doesn't need to be told twice; he takes full advantage of Haru's invitation and slips beneath the covers to join Haru. 

Haru immediately tangles his legs with Makoto's and tucks his head under Makoto's chin. His arms wrap around Makoto's middle, and the breath he lets out just before he settles in for the rest of the night sounds suspiciously like _I love you._

It would be just like Haru to be this sly, but it doesn't really matter. Haru has already told him those words a hundred, a thousand, countless times; he says it when he accepts Makoto's hand pulling him out of the water, he says it when their hands brush together on the way home, he says it when he lets Makoto hide behind him when he's scared, he says it when he lets Makoto dry his hair with his towel. It had just taken a while for Makoto to understand, but now he knows Haru had been saying it all along. 

Makoto kisses Haru's forehead, pours every bit of himself into that one kiss. He pulls Haru closer, double-checks to see that yes, it really is Haru in his arms and he's not dreaming it all up, then closes his eyes.

"Good night, Haru."

 

 

Sometime during the night, Makoto wakes up to the sound of Haru's phone. Groggily, he flips it open, squinting at the bright display. 

_Reminder: Confess to Makoto before his birthday ends._

He chuckles a bit because the idea of Haru agonizing so much over confessing that he makes a reminder on his phone is just too cute. Before he locks the phone, he enters a different reminder, one set to go off in the morning, around the time when he knows Haru is just waking up.

_Reminder: Kiss Makoto before we leave for school._

He falls back to sleep with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't decide if I should have the last bit as an omake or not. Oh well, it's done anyway :)
> 
> EDIT: Forgot to add that the cake is based on that one picture floating around on tumblr that everyone must have seen already. I don't have a link (sorry!) but it shouldn't be too hard to find?
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this rambling wall of text, and again...
> 
> Happy Birthday, Mako-chan~


End file.
